Maybe
by chasing tomorrow
Summary: .nejixten. He touches my fingers tentatively, then engulfs them with his own. "So shoot me, Tenten. Shoot me."


_One day,  
If all our dreams come true  
If the past becomes eternity  
Perhaps I will still remember today_

**Maybe**

xxx

I have never questioned; I have never disobeyed; and I certainly have never failed. Sliding on the scandalous, petite black dress that has accompanied me on so many missions, I watch myself carefully in the mirror, never taking my chocolate brown eyes off my reflection.

Lean, graceful, seductive. I have qualified for this job in too many ways.

Slowly, I apply the subtly red lipstick and draw the black eyeliner over my eyelid multiple times, until I am undeniably beautiful. Sinfully beautiful. I do not look twice; this face has been my reflection for too long to surprise me now. Without hesitation, I slide on the impossibly high silver stilettos that would send most women tripping and falling. I am not "most women"; I am unique. Special.

Slipping on equally stunning white bangles, I tap quietly into the front room. The receptionist, or the Issuer as we like to call her, does not even bother looking up at me. She hands me the thin black folder as if I were just another guest who was checking out of the hotel. Nonchalantly, the Issuer places a pair of knives and a cold gun on the counter, as if they were nothing but pen and paper. Wordlessly, I slip the weapons into the front of my dress, where no man would dare to look.

Like any other night, I thank her with my silence and briskly walk out into the cold, refreshing night. I flip open the cover of the folder, unheeding the lustful glances I receive.

The address at the top of the single sheet of paper instantly engraves itself into my mind. Scanning past the regular procedure, I search for the name of my victim.

Perhaps at this point I was supposed to be shocked, but I had already seen too many of these types of names on these reports. They no longer shocked me, but this one disturbed me, made me shiver uncharacteristically as I stepped into the sleek, silver car.

Neji Hyuuga.

xxx

I tasted the blood red wine on my lips, not daring to take more than a sip of the substance. One hand on the white linen-draped table, I searched the crowd of formally dressed aristocrats for my target. He was not hard to find, for my eyes had rested on his face an infinite number of times before. I swallowed. Hard.

Ten years ago, I would have never imagined myself in this position, this job, where the only objective was to murder with grace. Our unnamed league of assassins was specially trained to kill unsuspecting, elite businessmen during formal dinner parties, like this one. When no one was expecting or looking, we would attack without sound, without entrance. Nobody noticed; nobody bothered to investigate until it was too late.

Avoiding everyone else, pretending to be preoccupied with the food, I turned away from Neji, composing myself once more. Placing my glass of wine on the table, I held my head a little higher and began to glide through the crowd.

Be casual; be fast; be graceful.

Those were our instructions.

Weaving between waltzing couples on the gold dance floor, I inconspicuously made my way over to the Hyuuga heir. The Hyuuga business was one of the largest in the world, dominating other businesses easily. Stalling, I decided to delay a little more by jerking unnaturally over to the drinks station, jostling a few groups of people along the way. My irregular action did not go unnoticed by a few of the guests, who turned their heads towards me in a curious manner. Letting my luscious tresses hang in front of my face, I avoided their stares and soon they looked away.

I had never faltered this badly. It was bothering me.

Be casual.

A warm hand tapped my shoulder.

Jumping slightly, I turned around to find myself face-to-face with _the_ revered Neji Hyuuga. Drawing a breath in sharply from my nose, I tried to stay composed and balanced on these inconvenient heels. Despite the height the stilettos gave me, Neji towered over me by a whole two heads. I suddenly felt like that small, weak teenager I had been so many years ago.

"Hello, beautiful," he murmured in his all too familiar voice. "Shall we dance?"

xxx

Satisfied by my flawless footwork, the Hyuuga heir did not hesitate to ask me for another dance. And another. And another, until I was almost intoxicated by the smell of him and his calloused hand in mine. I was overdoing it, drawing too much attention to myself. Refusing his next dance, I walked away in measured steps from the man who I knew all too well. I was surprised he didn't recognize me yet, but I could not blame him because the wonders of surgery were beyond recognition. Plus the makeup, which I would have never worn back when I knew Neji.

Returning to the refreshments area, I pretended to absentmindedly smooth out the impeccably white table cloths, mindlessly making my way down to the end of the table. I could feel his gaze on my back, x-raying me as it had so many times before. I heard his quiet footsteps behind me, and his soft voice speaking sporadically to guests on the way. He was following me. This was everything I needed, but nothing I wanted.

Swallow.

Be casual.

Be graceful.

"I couldn't help but notice you behind me, Hyuuga-san," I said, smiling as I turned to face him.

"And I couldn't help but notice you were leaving me..." He trailed off, unsure of how to address me.

An awkward silence ensued, as I fought the urge to give him my name. He looked at me unsurely, tilting his head the smallest fraction of a degree, eyes searching my face. Recollecting my thoughts, I did what I always did at this moment. Placing my hands lightly on his broad shoulders, I drew him closer to me. A small smile curved on his lips, and he cradled my face in his strong hands. Without releasing his eyes, I leaned forward boldly and planted my lips on his. For so many years, my lips had lost all feeling, concentrating on just satisfying my target. But as Neji skimmed his tongue ever so lightly over my lips and as I parted them ever so willingly and naturally, I began to lose myself in this kiss. He wouldn't release me, turning the chaste connection to a passionate unity.

With all the self control I had ever needed to use, I pushed him back by a fraction, glad that we were in the shadows so he could not see my blush. "Take me," I whispered into his ear seductively, as I had done for so many other victims of my grace. He complied. Willingly.

xxx

No feeling. Another rule that was absolutely mandatory in the world of assasination. No feelings, just elegant murder. All that blood that had accumulated on my hands, all those blissfully blank faces, all the lives crushed into a fine dust. Memories I had tried to suppress for so long, memories that were meant to mean nothing. I clenched my hands tighter on Neji's bare shoulder blades as he obliviously showered my neck with kisses.

No feeling.

Closing my eyes, I focused on not feeling, knowing that this was crucial for my triumph in this mission. I had never had such difficulty in a mission, never had to suppress my feelings so strongly. Never felt a burning agony in the back of my throat.

Slowly, he slipped the thin straps from my shoulders, never looking up at my face. He, like so many others, was falling into the trap that I, the magician, had set up. I had him in my cage from the first dance, and now I would make him disappear in a sweep of effortless movement.

He slipped the black cloth down farther than I had let anyone else before. The others would be dead by now, but I could hardly resist responding to his fevered passion. I knew I had to act soon, or else the glint of the silver tipped knives would be exposed. Squeezing my eyes shut, willing myself to let go of all feeling, I did what I had been taught.

Faster than the eye, I whipped out that cold, black gun, and in slow motion, raised it right to his chest. He was so close that I could almost hear that rapid, innocent drumming of his heart that had never known death.

My finger was on the trigger, yet I could not pull it, so I lay there, half exposed, Neji staring into my eyes. I do not know how long we stayed there, just staring at each other, trying to read one another.

"Tenten," he whispered after a few tense minutes, x-raying me once again with his lavender tinted white eyes. I did not respond. How many years had it been since someone had called me that, since I had heard him call me that?

Why did he have to recognize me? It just made everything more difficult. I raised my other hand and clasped it around the frigid metal, steadying myself. This had always been the easy part. All that was needed was a single pull of the finger and the mission would be complete.

But _how _could I possibly pull the trigger when the gun was pointed at the one man who had protected me? Cherished me?

"How?" I asked softly, hands trembling.

"Your skin."

"You weren't supposed to know," I choked.

"I know."

If only I could rewind now and discard those hideous pieces of murderous steel.

"Why?" I asked, almost desperately.

"I have touched this skin, smelled this skin, loved this skin for a murderously long ten years, and you ask me how I can remember?" The light in his eyes is extinguished. Suddenly, I realize this is not the Neji I knew ten years ago. His eyes do not dance with that light from before; they are but lifeless orbs now.

"Stop..." I protest futilely with my eyes closed, as if I were the victim.

He touches my fingers tentatively, then engulfs them with his own. "So shoot me, Tenten. Shoot me. You'll get your money, and I won't be here to torture you anymore."

I open my eyes, instantly wishing that I hadn't. His very face could captivate me indefinitely. "Why did it have to be you?"

"Because," he searches for words, voice hoarse. "Because you love me."

The great Neji Hyuuga still has his pride.

He releases my hands and strokes my hair slowly, running his fingers through the soft strands. He closes his eyes, his beautiful, amazing eyes. "You can kill me now, Tenten. I know you can. You have always been the stronger one." His hands never leave my hair, and my eyes never leave his face.

I do not cry. I feel a strange need to kill him now, before he has second thoughts. I cannot bear to see such a serene face when I am about to abruptly end his life. Why is he so hard to kill? Hadn't I thrown away all of my prior relationships, connections, and identity? No one had ever given me difficulty. So why, why, _why_ did it have to be this man I had loved with such intensity that my heart burned every time I saw him?

"I love you," I whispered, the words inflaming my throat.

_Too much._

"I know." He smiled, eyes closed.

The smile never left his lips.

xxx

Notes: Ambiguous? Not really. A little?

This was just kind of random, slight-angsty stuff I thought of randomly. The transitions aren't that smooth, but I'm kind of okay with it. Review please (:


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